


Sex and Violence

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [76]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blood and Violence, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Cock Worship, Come Eating, Competence Kink, Dark Derek Hale, Dark Stiles Stilinski, Dirty Talk, Dom Derek Hale, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Hairy Derek Hale, Knotting, M/M, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Multiple Orgasms, Murder, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Self-Lubrication, Sub Stiles Stilinski, Top Derek Hale, Wall Sex, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25995751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: Derek is a feared Mafia boss. Stiles gets turned on watching him work.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [76]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/887604
Comments: 132
Kudos: 747
Collections: Teen Wolf ▶ Derek Hale / Stiles Stilinski





	Sex and Violence

The room is made of concrete, the walls, floor and ceiling all a dull grey colour. A lone naked bulb hanging from the centre of the ceiling serves as the only light source, swinging slowly back and forth in a non-existent breeze. It provides just enough illumination for Stiles to see from his perch atop a wooden desk in the corner, his legs crossed beneath him and his chin propped up on his hands.

"I'm disappointed in you, Jerry," Derek says, walking insouciantly in a circle around the chair that's positioned directly beneath the lightbulb. He wears a black suit, the tie cast aside and the top two buttons of his crisp, white shirt undone, showing off a bit of chest hair.

God, Stiles loves this part. He loves all the parts.

He's so fucked up.

It all started two years ago, when Stiles was a poor, innocent student attending USC. He was hurrying back to his apartment after a study session with a friend, dreading the full weekend of yet more studying ahead of him, when he suddenly found himself hitting a wall and falling flat on his ass. After blinking several times in quick succession to bring things back into focus, he peered up at what he hit and, instead of a wall, found a tall man standing there. His scent reeked of Alpha.

"Shit, sorry!" Stiles squeaked, leaping to his feet. He only came up to the man's shoulder.

"It's okay," the man responded, his gaze cool and intense. He proffered a large hand. "I'm Derek."

Stiles gave his own name in return and accepted the hand.

"So…what's an adorable little omega like yourself doing out alone this late at night?" the Alpha asked.

"Well—"

"Because if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were looking for trouble."

Stiles was unsure if he should be creeped out or not. "Uhh…"

Derek took a step closer, so close that Stiles had to tip his head back to maintain eye contact. Derek's hazel eyes were so pretty… "You know," he said, cupping the side of Stiles' face with his rough palm, "I can't seem to look away from you."

Stiles' breath hitched. "M-me neither," he stammered.

"Dinner?"

Stiles worried at his bottom lip. "What?"

"Do you want to come to dinner with me?" Derek clarified with a deep chuckle. "I promise to treat you right, little omega."

"Yeah?" Stiles got a burst of confidence—if such a handsome Alpha was interested in him…well, he'd be stupid not to take the offer. The danger was exciting. "Gonna show me a good time?"

Derek's scent intensified and his eyes flashed red with arousal. "If you want me to."

And that was it. Before Stiles knew it, he was wrapped up in a whirlwind romance with the sexiest Alpha he'd ever met. Derek was sweet and attentive when Stiles needed him to be, and he could also be rough and domineering when the moment called for it. The sex was out of this world, always left Stiles lying in bed unable to think about anything but how perfect Derek seemed. There was just one thing wrong:

Derek was keeping a secret.

Stiles still didn't know what the Alpha did for a living, but he had hints—secret phone calls, and glimpses of a side of Derek he hadn't shown Stiles yet.

A side of pure darkness, the source of the danger Stiles sensed the night they first met.

That was when he realised something was wrong with him too because, instead of chasing him away, the glimpses he got drew him in deeper. They made him more attracted to the Alpha he was growing to love against his better judgment.

When he finally found out that Derek was a Mafia boss who killed and tortured countless people to maintain his empire, Stiles did what any sensible omega would do:

He dropped to his knees and blew him.

Yeah. Sensible.

Right.

All of that led Stiles to where he is now, in this room used for interrogation and torture, loving every second of it.

Like he thought, he's fucked in the head.

"You just had to betray me, didn't you, Jerry?" Derek continues, completing his circuit around the chair.

"Mmf! _Mmf_!"

"You want to speak? Too bad. It's my turn."

In the chair is the man named Jerry, bound and gagged and desperately trying to break free because of what's about to happen to him.

Jerry knows it

Stiles knows it.

Derek knows it.

Even Peter Hale, Derek's uncle and right hand, knows it where he stands guard at the door, hands clasped behind his back.

Stiles isn't quite sure what Jerry actually did to betray the Hales, but he supposes it doesn't matter. Derek can be cruel and vindictive, but only to people who cross him. Do nothing wrong, follow orders to the letter, and Derek won't touch you. Hell, he might even give a nice little bonus if someone does a really good job with whatever illicit task they've been given.

Whatever Jerry did must've been particularly bad if he's tied to a chair in this room—Derek saves this room for special cases.

"I already gave you a chance to come clean and earn a swift death…but, lucky me, you didn't take it." Derek holds his hand out at his side, and Peter steps forward to place a knife in it. The silver of the blade gleams, sharp and deadly.

Jerry is nearly sobbing at this point, tears running down his cheeks. Stiles thinks it's all a bit pathetic.

The next thirty minutes pass in a cacophony of screams, and Stiles and Peter take it all in. The older Hale has an air of disinterest about him—"Been there, done that," he said once—but Stiles is enthralled. The blood and violence doesn't do much for him, but what has him watching so raptly is Derek. God, Derek practically makes this an art form…every slice, cut and stab is precise, his focus never faltering, his hand never shaking. He's breathtaking, and by the time it's over and Jerry goes quiet with one final gurgle, Stiles' slick has soaked through the back of his underwear and jeans.

"Peter, you're up," Derek says. He steps away and cleans the blood off of the knife with a rag from his pocket.

Peter strides forward again, undoes all the restraints that kept Jerry helpless in the chair and heaves the body over his shoulder, not caring about his clothes getting stained red. He stops long enough to take the now-clean knife back from his nephew, and then he and the body are gone, leaving Stiles alone with Derek.

"That was amazing," Stiles says, slipping off of the desk. He leaves a wet patch behind.

"I know how much you love my work," Derek responds with a smirk. He cocks his head to the side and breathes in deeply, his nostrils flaring. "You _really_ love it."

Stiles giggles. "Yup."

"Come here."

Gladly coming closer, Stiles presses his front to Derek's and tilts his head back for a kiss. Derek gives it to him, fierce and possessive right off the bat. He whines with pleasure when strong arms curl around him, holding him, and he feels something huge and hard rubbing at his soft but flat stomach.

"Get naked for me, pet," Derek orders, his eyes glowing red as he looks down at Stiles.

The omega hurries to comply, his clothes flying every which way until he stands there in his birthday suit. Slick drips down the backs of his thighs and his small omega cock sticks out hard and needy from his neatly trimmed pubes. His balls—purely decorative—are drawn up tight, his orgasm just a few touches or dirty words away.

He's always been this way, coming easily and fast. It used to be a source of embarrassment for him, even though none of the Alphas he slept with before he met Derek actually said anything about it. Now, after Derek told him he just saw it as proof of Stiles bring so attracted to him, he's proud of it—and Derek has no issue bringing Stiles off multiple times, until he's a complete mess, covered in their combined sweat and filled to the brim with come.

Fuck…it's so good.

Eyeing him with approval, Derek walks around him and sits down in the chair in which he murdered Jerry. He makes it his, looking like a king reclining in his throne.

"You feel like blowing me, sweetheart?" Derek curls his index finger at him. "Seeing as I just gave you such a good show and all."

Stiles salivates. "Hell yeah…"

"Then get down on your knees and take me out. I'm getting impatient."

Stiles' kneecaps hurt when he drops down unceremoniously, but he barely notices the pain. His mind is too fogged with lust. He undoes Derek's belt and the fastenings of his suit trousers before tugging the trousers and Derek's expensive boxer-briefs down his thick, hairy legs. He has to stop briefly to whip off Derek's shoes and socks too, but then he has his Alpha naked from the waist down, his thick cock already leaking for him.

Stiles licks his lips.

"Have a taste," Derek says. He takes himself in hand and angles the tip of his cock down slightly, putting it at a better angle for his omega.

Stiles can't resist. He sticks out his tongue and licks a long line up the underside, over the thick vein there, ending at the slit. He moans and his eyelids flutter as he gets his first taste of Derek's pre-come, thick and slightly salty, delicious as always. After a few more kitten licks, he slaps Derek's hand away and grabs his cock in his own so he can really go to town. He worships it like it deserves, running his lips up and down the shaft and giving more little licks and kisses over every bit of soft skin he can reach. He doesn't stop until he feels Derek's fingers in his hair, rough and silently urging him to take him properly in his mouth.

Derek's cock rests heavy on his tongue once Stiles obeys. A fresh drop of pre-come landing on it spurs him into action, bobbing his head up and down, his lips stretched wide. He opens his eyes again and stares right into Derek's, needing to see each reaction he can pull out. He thinks the Alpha looks his sexiest like this, letting Stiles pleasure him, his jaw clenched, eyes heated, forehead shiny with sweat…

Damn.

" _Fuck_ , your mouth's always so good," Derek groans, spreading his legs wider. "Should just keep your here on my cock all the time so everyone can see what a slut you are for me."

Stiles knows it's just dirty talk—Derek is far too possessive of him to ever follow through—but the thought's hot.

He stays there for a while, using one hand to stroke over the several inches he can't fit into his mouth without triggering his gag reflex and the other to fondle Derek's balls. They're weighty with seed. The fine hairs tickle Stiles' palm, and the wrinkled sac is slightly damp with sweat from being confined in his boxers all day.

Eventually, Stiles grows brave. He takes Derek as far in his mouth as he can, his nose ending up just shy of Derek's dark pubes, before moving on to something else.

He sniffs at Derek's balls, relishing their musk, before nosing into the shadowy space beneath them.

"Something you're after, pet?" Derek asks rhetorically, a hint of derision in his voice.

"Alpha…" Stiles groans, rubbing his face over Derek's perineum.

"I'll take that as a yes. I'm feeling generous today, so I'll allow it. Have at it, pet."

With that, Derek slouches down, sticks his hands beneath his own knees and pulls his legs backward, giving his omega access to his most intimate place.

As always, Stiles is left a bit breathless by the sight of it and the taboo nature of him paying attention to it. Traditionally speaking, Alphas aren't really supposed to be interested in having their asses played with, but when have either of them ever been traditional? Derek is a fucking Mafia boss and Stiles gets turned on watching him kill people, so throwing traditional sexual roles and conventions out the window is nothing, relatively speaking.

Derek's ass cheeks are nice and toned, dusted with fine hairs. This hair gets more abundant the closer it gets to Derek's crack, and it surrounds Derek's tight, pink hole in a messy whorl.

Out of nowhere, Stiles is brought out of his staring by a tap atop his head. He looks up to see it's Derek's foot.

"Get on with it," the Alpha commands. "Before I change my mind."

Not wanting to disappoint—and not wanting to miss out—Stiles dives in. He shoves his face right in Derek's crack, rubbing it up and down to get the scent—just the right side of unclean—embedded in his pores, before concentrating his attention right at the centre. He eats Derek out for all he's worth, both because his hole tastes good and hits the spot for Stiles and because he wants to make it good for Derek. It's almost like he's saying thank you for letting him to do this in the first place.

He alternates between wiggling his tongue against Derek's furled rim, seeking entrance, and nipping lightly at it, doing everything he's discovered Derek likes best. He feels proud of himself when Derek's hole loosens enough for him to actually get the tip of his tongue inside, tasting and feeling the searing heat of the Alpha's inner walls. He wishes that he could get deeper inside… Maybe he can convince Derek to actually let Stiles fuck him one of these days.

Just the thought has Stiles getting perilously close to coming untouched. He fumbles a hand around his cock in an attempt to stave it off but isn't quick enough. He ends up painting the concrete with his useless omega seed. It mixes with the small pools of blood Derek made while cutting into Jerry.

If Derek noticed what just happened, he doesn't mention it. He stays sitting, his legs held up out of the way so that Stiles can play. The omega works a finger into his Alpha's hairy hole alongside his tongue and searches for that special bundle of nerves. He knows he's found it when Derek shouts and his body goes rigid, his hole clamping down around his finger.

"Alright, alright, that's enough!" Derek says, pushing Stiles away. "Get up here. I need to fuck you."

After giving Derek's hole one last lick, Stiles takes a second to admire how it looks all loose and shiny, the hairs around it looking even darker matted down with his spit. Then he rises to his feet, climbs into his Alpha's lap and kisses him, Derek's facial hair scratching across his own smooth cheeks.

"You're such a naughty omega," Derek breathes right against Stiles' lips. "Coming while eating your Alpha out like that…"

Stiles pouts. "Like you don't love it too."

"True. Like I said earlier, you're very talented with your mouth."

Derek gives him another kiss and then cups his palms around Stiles' ass cheeks, giving them a good squeeze. He gives them a hard slap too, before working a finger between them to prod at Stiles' hole.

"So needy for me, aren't you?" he says cockily. "So wet."

"Very needy, Alpha," Stiles confirms with a nod. "Always need you…"

"Slut."

Stiles nibbles on his bottom lip. "Your slut."

After using a couple fingers to ensure that Stiles won't get hurt, Derek uses his considerable strength to lift him up and plop him right back down on his cock. Stiles throws his head back with a cry and clutches at Derek's broad shoulders as his body is suddenly invaded by all nine inches, his hole filled to the brim.

Derek grunts and grips Stiles' hips to the point of bruising, his cock twitching inside his omega. "That what you needed?"

Stiles can only gasp and moan.

"Yeah, that's what you needed," Derek says with a laugh.

He gives Stiles a minute to get used to him and then rises to his feet, once again displaying how strong he is as he holds Stiles like he weighs nothing.

"Alpha!" Stiles exclaims in surprise, curling his legs around Derek's waist.

"Relax, pet. I won't drop you."

Stiles narrows his eyes. "I know, but a little warning next time!"

Derek carries him over to the wall and positions Stiles so he's trapped between the concrete and his Alpha.

"I'm gonna fuck your brains out," Derek promises. He spares a moment to shed his suit jacket and then rearranges them slightly so that the backs of Stiles' knees slot into his elbows.

Stiles is entirely helpless in this position, unable to get away even if he wanted to. It's a good thing he doesn't—he's more than happy to let Derek keep him like this, dominating him, completely surrounding him, blocking out everything else so that all he can see, smell and feel is his Alpha. It's his idea of heaven.

When Derek begins, his hips moving fast right off the bat, all Stiles can do is hold on for dear life. He digs his blunt nails into the Alpha's shoulders and hides his face in the crook of his neck as his poor hole takes the onslaught—and this isn't even all of it. Stiles knows from all the times they've fucked in the past—too many times to count—that Derek's knot will start to swell soon and it'll feel like he's being split apart. He hasn't actually torn anything since their first time together, but it never stops feeling earth-shattering in its intensity.

With a particularly vicious thrust that grazes right over his prostate, Stiles sinks his teeth into the space between Derek's shoulder and neck hard enough to make him bleed.

"Ah!" the Alpha cries, shocked.

For a moment, Stiles fears he's upset Derek enough to make him stop—Alphas are usually the ones to bite—but his fears are allayed when all Derek does is tilt his head to the side, baring more of his neck for Stiles to feast on.

And feast on it, Stiles does.

He licks up the blood he accidentally spilled and concentrates with all the power left in his brain—not much, to be honest, considering he's got Derek's godly dick in him—in marking his mate up as best he can. He litters the vulnerable column of flesh with love bites and hickeys, nipping and sucking, so that, by the time he finally feels more resistance every time Derek fucks into his needy hole, it's a patchwork of bruises that won't heal fully for a few days at least.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't pleased by this. It's his turn to be possessive—after all, there's not a time they go out in public that someone doesn't hit on Derek, even with Stiles right there. It's understandable—Derek's the hottest Alpha in the world, in his opinion—but frustrating all the same. This way, there'll be no way for those rude, desperate strangers to ignore that Derek is taken.

Some will still try, but hey, that's what Stiles' fist is for.

Needing more skin-to-skin contact and some flexing muscles to fondle, Stiles fumbles with the buttons of Derek's dress shirt. He gets impatient when he can't get even one of them through its placket and rips the shirt open instead, buttons skittering across the concrete floor. Then he has his fill.

He maps out Derek's chest like he's done a hundred times before, squeezing his broad pecs, running his slender fingers through Derek's dark chest hair, pinching and twisting his pebbled nipples.

The last action gets him a snarl and a husky, "Cheeky," from the Alpha.

"Just— I just like touching y-you," Stiles gasps out.

Derek's countenance becomes particularly smug. "I know."

He allows Stiles to play with his nipples for a bit longer and then looks down at him with bared teeth. His knot is swelling. "Gonna make you come," he hisses, fresh perspiration appearing on his forehead.

"Do it," Stiles says, pushing out every time Derek thrusts his cock back inside.

After a few more thrusts, each one more difficult than the last, Derek forces his rapidly swelling knot in a final time with an obscene wet pop and stays there, grinding his hips against Stiles' ass as he swells the rest of the way, tying them together. Just the pressure of Derek's knot against his prostate, unremitting, unescapable, would be enough to have Stiles approaching orgasm, but what actually gets him there is Derek throwing his head back with a howl and the ensuing warmth spreading deep in his gut. Just the thought of being filled up with his Alpha's thick come is toe-curling.

"F-fuck, I'm gonna—" he stammers, holding on so tightly to Derek's dress shirt that he actually rips it.

His vision darkens around the edges and everything goes a bit blurry as his orgasm overwhelms him. Goosebumps rise on his arms and he clenches down around Derek's knot without thinking about it, making it feel even bigger, pressing it even harder against his prostate. It prolongs his pleasure, his small cock spurting more and more thin seed between their bodies until it finally crests and ends.

In the aftermath, Stiles is left panting and sweaty, his body limp and useless. He whimpers as Derek brings them back over to the chair to wait out his knot.

"Shh…I've got you," Derek coos, directing him to put his face back in his neck to take in his scent.

It helps. Stiles comes back to himself gradually, his fingers curling loosely as feeling returns to his extremities. "Damn…" he breathes, nuzzling his Alpha's neck.

"You made quite a mess of us, pet," Derek murmurs, smoothing his palm up and down Stiles' still-trembling back.

"Sorry, not sorry."

Derek chuckles. "It's okay. I don't mind your little acts of marking."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm." Derek fists his hand in Stiles' hair and tugs him backward so they can meet each other's gaze. With his other hand, he presses down on Stiles' belly. "I've already marked you as mine in all ways, haven't I? Outside and in."

Stiles feels a fresh wave of arousal go through him and groans. "Stop," he whines. "S'too soon to come again…"

"Poor baby." Derek's expression reeks of arrogance. "Did I wear you out?"

Stiles nods.

Moving him closer again, the Alpha whispers his next words right into Stiles' ear, eliciting a full-body shudder. "You haven't felt anything yet. Just wait until I get you back in our bed."

"Alpha?" Stiles squeaks.

"I'm not gonna let you sleep all night…"

Stiles shuts his eyes tight. He can imagine how thoroughly worn out he'll be by the end of it. It'll be a miracle if he can walk at all. "Fuck…"

"That's the idea."

Nothing else is said until Derek's knot goes down enough for his softening cock to slip out of Stiles' hole. The Alpha immediately replaces it with three of his fingers. "Should've brought one of your plugs with me today," he says, stroking over Stiles' sensitive inner walls, his hand getting covered in his own come. "Could keep my seed deep inside you where it belongs."

Stiles nods absentmindedly—he's too preoccupied with Derek's fingers inside him to really give all of his attention to the filth the Alpha is speaking.

"Should always be full of me." Derek hums, considering it. "In fact, I think that's what I'm gonna do from now on."

"Alpha…?"

"How would feel about that, pet?" Derek enquires, so casual it's like he's talking about the weather. "Always being full of your Alpha's come? I'd fuck you full and keep you nice and plugged up when I have Laura drive you to your classes. Especially around your heats…could knock you up."

Stiles snaps his eyes open and leans back to stare at Derek in shock. "Knock me up?"

"Yes. I think it's long past time I breed this little hole of yours, isn't it?" Derek says. He chooses then to be particularly mean and rub the pad of a finger over Stiles' swollen prostate. "Peter's been suggesting I give myself an heir lately."

Stiles has nothing to say to that. Carrying his Alpha's pups…he wouldn't be averse.

"For now, though," Derek continues, "I think I'll settle for just fucking you every chance I get. Speaking of…"

Stiles startles when Derek removes his fingers and he feels something bigger and blunt at his hole. Derek must've got himself hard again with his own dirty talk—understandable, because Stiles definitely thought it was hot as hell. His mouth drops open as he's filled up with all nine thick inches again.

"Here, pet," Derek says, putting his come-slicked fingers in front of Stiles' mouth. "Clean me up."

Stiles does so with verve, moaning loudly as the salty taste of his Alpha's release bursts across his taste buds. Delicious…

He sucks on all three fingers individually to make it last longer and even makes sure to lick down to Derek's wrist so as to not miss a single drop. When Derek's hand glistens with thin saliva instead of thick seed, Derek grips Stiles under his thighs and stands up, keeping them pressed tightly together so his cock doesn't slip out of his omega's hole. Then he walks over to the door, has Stiles open it and strolls through the hallways and rooms separating them from their bedroom. He doesn't give a damn that Stiles is fully naked, he himself is mostly naked, and there are other people around.

Stiles doesn't much care either. They look great together.

Let people stare.

A man lingering in one of the rooms they need to pass through steps forward when they enter. "Sir—"

"Not now," Derek shuts him down. "Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow."

"But—"

" _Tomorrow_ ," Derek snarls, flashing his eyes red for good measure. Stiles' breath hitches at the display of raw power.

"Y-yes, Sir. Sorry," the other man apologises before scurrying away, his metaphorical tail between his legs.

Once they finally reach their bedroom, Derek kicks the door shut behind them and carries Stiles over to their huge canopy bed. He lays them down atop the red satin sheets, Stiles on his back, takes off his ruined dress shirt and then plants his hands on either side of the omega's head. His grin is feral and salacious.

"You're in for it, pet," he growls, giving a small, lazy thrust. "Let's see how many more times I can make you come before you're coming dry. I want you begging me to stop."

Stiles braces himself.

This is going to be good.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was interesting. Knives and blood have never really done it for me (I'm a much bigger fan of sweet and sensual). They still don't, but their inclusion in this PWP was minor enough for me not to mind so much. The main focus was, as always, on Stiles and Derek's relationship and all the hot, steamy sex they have—because when they look like they do, it would be impossible for them to keep their hands off of each other, right? XD Anyway, I most likely won't write another PWP with blood and violence in it again, but it was a fun, one-off experiment. Let me know what you all thought. :)
> 
> Stay tuned for my next PWP, in which Stiles gets off on having sex with Derek when he knows his dad is home.
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future updates go live. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**
> 
> **P.P.S. I'm now taking prompts again! If you have a dirty idea you want me to write, leave it a comment down below and I'll see what I can do. My only conditions are that it involves Stiles and Derek (maybe Peter too), and that it's M/M.**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Prey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26639623) by [indulgence1993](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indulgence1993/pseuds/indulgence1993)




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